


Fëanor the Babysitter

by HollowsWhite12



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Babysitting, Big brother Fëanor, F/M, Family, Fluff, Fëanor babysitting, Romance, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:42:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28151823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollowsWhite12/pseuds/HollowsWhite12
Summary: Fëanor dislikes his half siblings more than anyone, he absolutely hates them. But what happens when he is now stuck babysitting them? Modern AU.
Relationships: Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	1. Of Breakfasts and Band Aids

**Author's Note:**

> Ages:
> 
> Fëanor - 19 yrs old  
> Findis - 9 yrs old  
> Fingolfin - 8 yrs old  
> Finarfin - 7 yrs old 
> 
> The thought of Fëanor babysitting his half siblings came into my head and so I wrote something about, cause we all need the sibling bonding between them.

"Do you think he's going to wake up soon?"

"I don't know"

"Dad says we shouldn't disturb him"

"But I'm hungry"

"Shh!! You'll wake him up!"

Sounds of footsteps and hushed whispers were heard as Fëanor tosses and turns on his bed. Strange, he thought. He felt something heavy on top of him, or maybe it was just his hang over, his whole body ached.

"Big brother, wake up" was what he heard, feeling a light pat on his cheek.

He tiredly opens his eyes a little and there, on his bedside, he saw three children staring back at him.

Oh, how nice, he must be dreaming again.

He closes his eyes to go back to sleep once more.

"Is he awake yet?"

"I think he's still sleeping, you should try waking him up again, Ara"

Wait—

"Big brother—"

Cracking his eyes open, he sat up now fully awake to see that there were indeed three children that were staring at him, and it wasn't just any three children, it was his younger half siblings.

Scowling, he glared at them. "What are you doing in my room? Didn't I tell you not to come in here? Get out"

"But we're hungry" his raven haired half sibling, Fingolfin, says.

"So? Do I look like your mother? Go bother dad or something" he pulls the covers on him and went back to bed.

This time, his blonde half sibling, Finarfin spoke. "But dad isn't here" 

"Go and cook your own breakfasts then and leave me alone"

Getting a pillow, he put it over his head to block out his half siblings' voices.

"Please, big brother! We don't know how to cook!" pleaded Fingolfin.

"We can't reach the stove" says his half sister, Findis.

Finarfin starts tugging on the covers. "Pleaseeee" 

Fëanor gripped the pillow on top of his head tightly, trying hard to ignore them.

"Pretty please?"

"I'm hungry"

"Big brother–" 

Fuck—

"Fine! Alright, I'll make you breakfast so shut the fuck up!" 

"Yay!! "

"Big brother's going to make us breakfast!"

"Let's go down and prepare the plates"

"Yeah!!"

As the three children went out of his room, he stood up and put on a t-shirt before he too left his room and went downstairs.

When he got downstairs to the kitchen, his half siblings were already seated with plates on the table. Going to the fridge, he saw a note held by a fridge magnet. 

Taking it, he saw that it was left by his father. It read: 

Good morning son, Indis and I have an early meeting with your uncle today, you came home late last night so we didn't have the chance to tell you and we didn't want to disturb you. It's too much to ask of you this but can you please take care of your siblings while we're away? I know that you're busy lately but it's only for today, I promise that we would be back as soon as we can.

Love,

Dad and Indis 

Fëanor's brows furrowed, he didn't know whether to laugh or to be angry at the fact his father expects him to take care of three children, HIM and not just any children, it was them! His father knows all too well how he hated those three little bastards and he expects him to take care of them.

He can already feel his anger slowly bubbling up. He grips the paper, crumpling it in his hand.

If this was a plan to make him get along with those three little bastards then it wasn't going to happen. Just what is going on in his father's head? It's plain obvious that he didn't like them, so why leave them with him? 

Speaking of the little bastards, Fëanor looks up and sees the three of them playing Rock Paper Scissors. Fingolfin who seems to have noticed him staring at them gave him a big smile and waved at him. Fëanor frowned at this.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

\--

Fingolfin looked at his plate of burnt bacon and scrambled eggs, the eight year old's nose scrunches up, he looks up to Fëanor.

"Toron, it's burnt"

Fëanor's eyes narrowed. "So?"

"Isn't bacon supposed to—" 

Findis shoves a spoonful of scrambled eggs into Fingolfin's mouth.

"What he means, is that the bacon is good, thank you for the breakfast big brother" Findis says 

Finarfin nods his head and forces a smile as he eats the burnt bacon. "It's so juicy"

Fëanor rolls his eyes. "Thought so" he then takes a seat.

All four started eating breakfast in silence. Fingolfin who still didn't like the burnt bacon decided that he would just put ketchup instead to mask the burnt flavor.

His eyes searched for the bottle of ketchup on the table, grinning once he saw that it was right next to Fëanor.

"Toron?" Fingolfin starts.

Fëanor looks up at him in irritation. "What?"

Fingolfin gave him a smile. "Can you pass the ketchup, please?"

Fëanor looked at Fingolfin and then at the ketchup before looking back once more at Fingolfin. 

"You want ketchup?" Fëanor asks and Fingolfin nods.

Standing up, he puts the ketchup on top of the shelf before going back to sit.

"Go and get it then" 

And so the four continued to eat their breakfasts in silence, Fingolfin forcing himself to eat the burnt bacon, having no choice.

\--

Once breakfast was finished and the dishes were washed, the three children went outside to play in the back yard.

"Finally, some peace and quiet" thought Fëanor.

Opening the door to the basement, he descends down the stairs and turns on the lights. Although a bit dusty and over all messy, the basement was his sanctuary, a place where he usually goes to, to avoid seeing the three goblins and his step mother. No one can enter the basement except for him in his father 

It was a place where he can concentrate on his only hobby, sculpting.

Going to his work bench, he sits down and takes out a picture, it was the picture of a certain red haired girl that he grew fond of recently. Pinning it on the wall, he gets his sculpting tools and starts working.

About ten minutes in sculpting the head, a loud crash was heard from upstairs and sounds of footsteps walking down the basement stairs were heard.

Fëanor curses in annoyance and turns to the intruder that was his blonde half sibling, Finarfin.

"What do you want?" He scowls at the seven year old.

"U-um" 

"Well? Out with it then!" 

"Fingolfin's bleeding"

"And so?"

"And it's really bad"

"Then go and fix it then, get out" Fëanor says and turns to go back to his work.

"Please, Toron, it's really bad" Finarfin says.

Fëanor ignores him and continues to sculpt the head, around three minutes passed and Finarfin was still there standing. 

Fëanor tried ignoring him but the boy started to cry.

For the love of Eru—

He sets down his tools and stood up.

"Fine, this better be serious"

\--

A tiny cut.

It wasn't that tiny nor that big either but that's what it was was.

He had to stop working on his sculpture to attend to this? A tiny cut on the finger?

It took a count to ten for Fëanor not to let his anger get the better of him, thankfully it worked or else he would have locked all three of them outside.

Long story short, the three little goblins had found it more fun to play inside the house, one bumps into one of the vases and manages to cut himself on the finger because he tried picking up the shard to clean the mess.

Fëanor didn't know whether this child was dumb or something, who the fuck picks up glass shards? 

What pissed him off more was the crying, the loud crying.

Fingolfin was holding his left hand and was wailing like a baby. The boy cried as if he was going to die from a tiny cut on the finger, Fëanor wanted to laugh but he couldn't because the boy's crying irritated him.

He can't do this anymore.

Grabbing the eight year old's shoulder, Fëanor shook him.

"I get it, you got cut so stop fucking crying!" He yells at him.

And thank Eru, the boy finally stopped crying. Turning to Findis and Finarfin, Fëanor ordered the two of them to get a broom and a dust pan to clean up the mess. The two siblings immediately did as he told and started cleaning up the mess.

Getting the first aid kit from the cupboard he ordered Fingolfin to sit down on the couch, when the boy refused, Fëanor glared at him causing the eight year old to obey.

"It hurts" Fingolfin says as he cleans the blood off from the tiny cut.

"Who the fuck told you to play inside the house then?

"Me"

Fëanor scoffs. "I'm not surprised"

After cleaning the cut, he puts a band aid on the boy's finger. The eight year old who was crying earlier was now swinging his little legs on the couch.

"There"

"Wow! Thank you, big brother!"

Fëanor stood up and took the first aid kit, about to go back to the basement to continue his work, but then he felt a tug on his pants.

Looking back, he saw Fingolfin looking at him.

"What?"

Fingolfin grinned.

"Can I have ice cream now?"


	2. Of Questions and Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fëanor only wants peace and quiet, but they bother him every time they could, Fëanor needs a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages:
> 
> Fëanor - 19 yrs old  
> Findis - 9 yrs old  
> Fingolfin - 8 yrs old  
> Finarfin - 9 yrs old  
> Nerdanel - 18 yrs old

Lunch was only simple, Fëanor didn't know how to cook and the children told him not to so they settled for a BLT sandwich instead. Like breakfast earlier, all four had ate in silence. 

Once they had their fill, the three children went to have a nap, tired from all the playing. This left Fëanor an hour or two to finish his work in peace, no children running or making a mess and certainly no more loud crying.

Finally, no more disturbances.

Or so he thought—

There, standing a few inches from his workbench was Fingolfin, who was fully awake.

The eight year old had somehow got in without him noticing and was watching him as he works. The boy's eyes were wide with curiosity as he looked at the sculpture, at first Fëanor ignored him but he wasn't used to having someone watch him sculpt and the boy was getting too close to his liking.

"Why do you insist in staying here? Can you not read the sign, 'Do Not Disturb' ? Or is your small brain unable to comprehend what it means?" 

The boy only gave him a wide grin. "What are you doing? I wanna watch!"

Fëanor frowned. "Leave"

The boy pouted. "Please?"

"No, now get out and go nap"

"But I don't want to nap"

"Go play one of your stupid games then"

"No"

Fëanor put down his tool and rubbed the back of his neck, the boy was starting to get on his nerves.

It wasn't a moment ago that he was disturbed, now he was being disturbed again. He was starting to get pissed off.

As if testing his patience, the boy inched his way closer to the workbench, reaching a hand over to touch the sculpture.

"It looks so cool-" 

That's it.

Slapping the boy's hand away from the sculpture before the grubby hands could touch it, Fëanor snaps at the boy.

"Do not touch it!" 

Fingolfin whimpered as he pulled back the hand, rubbing the spot it was slapped, tears were threatening to form in the boy's eyes, about to cry.

Fuck, not again.

He had to think fast, he wasn't going to tolerate crying in his private space, no, he didn't want to hear the loud wailing of an eight year old child.

And just then a stupid idea had popped up in his head.

He gritted his teeth, he wasn't going to like this, he was surely going to regret this later but it's his only choice.

"You can stay"

Hearing that, the annoying wide grin returned to the boy's face, the child was about to look at the sculpture up close but he stopped him.

"But—" Fëanor continues, pointing to the stool a few meters away from the work bench. "You will stay there and do nothing, you will not touch anything nor will you move or make a noise, you cannot go here either, stay there unless I tell you to move"

Fingolfin nodded in agreement and went to sit on the stool, letting Fëanor to continue with his work. The boy had been surprisingly quiet, not quite what he expected, the child had did as he told and just sat there on the stool, occasionally moving around to adjust on his seat as he watched his older half brother work. Because the boy had been silent, Fëanor was able to work in peace, he started to forget that Fingolfin was even there. 

But ofcourse like any children, they couldn't stay quiet for a minute more or less and before he knew it the boy had started to speak.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm sculpting"

"Why are you sculpting?"

Fëanor rolled his eyes, trying his best to answer without snapping at the child. "Because it's my hobby"

"Is it hard?"

"Do you not tire of asking a lot of questions?"

"Nope, who is the pretty lady in the picture? Is she the one you're sculpting?"

Fëanor grits his teeth. This kid was really starting to get on his nerves.

"None of your business"

"Why?"

"Did I not tell you to be quiet?"

"No, you only said to not touch anything or move"

Fëanor inhaled deeply. Calm yourself, Feanaro, control your temper. As much as you want to smite the little bastard and drive him to the nearest orphanage, you must focus on your work.

"Then shut up and be quiet unless I tell you to speak " He says

Fingolfin smiles. "Alright!"

And just like that, the boy kept his mouth shut once more.

\--

Fingolfin was bored, extremely bored.

He didn't want to take a nap he didn't like napping at all, when his mother tries making him take one, he wouldn't. Unlike his two siblings, he had a lot of energy and was always running around or doing something, no one can expect him to stay quiet or to not move. 

But in this case he would. He was glad that he gets to see his older brother work even though the older didn't want him there.

It was the first time he got down to the basement to see his brother work on something, his mother would always tell him to avoid disturbing the older because Fëanor had a terrible temper.

Though, that didn't stop Fingolfin from liking his older half brother, no, infact the boy thought that the tall aloof teenager was very cool. 

He swung his legs as he watched Fëanor, just sitting here made him want to eat. Speaking of eating, he could hear his stomach grumbling, a sign that he was now hungry.

Getting off the stool, he ran back upstairs to go to the kitchen. The boy searched for something to eat, as soon as his eyes landed on the jar of cookies on top of the kitchen counter, the eight year old's stomach had once again grumbled.

He tried reaching it but he failed, being too small and all so he got a chair to boost him up, when he was about to get a cookie from the jar the doorbell had suddenly rang.

Fingolfin, jumped down from the chair and rushed towards the door, wondering who it was. The child reached up to twist the door knob, opening it. And there, a tall red haired girl was standing outside.

"Oh hello there, is this Fëanor's house?"

\--

Putting down the chisel, Fëanor wiped off the sweat from his forehead with a towel. 

Working down in the basement with no air conditioner made him sweat like a pig, usually it wasn't this hot but it was, he was sweating all over.

Standing up, he went upstairs to get a glass of water. As he passed by the receiving area he noticed that the three little devils were playing Rock Paper Scissors with someone. Shrugging it off he continued on his way to the kitchen.

Wait—

He paused and went back to go take a look at the person they were playing with.

Who the fuck?

"You lose!" Findis says

"How about another round then?"

The person was a girl, with long red hair that was all too familiar and that voice, he recognized that voice.

As if noticing he was there, the blonde goblin, Finarfin, looked up and called out for him.

"Big brother!"

This caused the red head and the other two goblins turned to look at him and he found himself faced to face with the girl he had been crushing on lately, the muse for his sculpture, the girl he likes.

Nerdanel.

"Hello Fëanor" the girl smiled at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here comes Nerdanel


End file.
